Chapter 20—Home For the Holidays

"Careful" Ryan warned as he walked slowly alongside Emmie, his arm behind her back. "Just take your time."

Emmie was nearly out of breath as she propelled herself along on her new aluminum crutches. She wore an old black United States Navy tee shirt and long, loose workout pants. She wore a sock over her bandaged leg to keep it as clean as possible. What bothered her most was, despite her rigorous workouts, she now seemed to get worn down quickly while doing simple things.

Finally she stopped and held both crutches in one hand as she leaned tiredly against the wooden railing, catching her breath, holding up her bandaged leg. "I hate these things" she moaned almost helplessly. "They're killing my arms."

"Just like anything else, Emmie. You have to get used to them. You can't push yourself so hard."

"We're gonna miss it" she protested.

He leveled his eyes at her. "So what? You just got out of the hospital. You've already had one accident in the last week. You don't need another."

While Ryan stood next to her patiently, she simply leaned back against the wooden railing and breathed deeply, taking in that cool, fragrant ocean breeze while she rested her sore arms on her crutches. She closed her eyes and listened to the hissing of the breeze blowing through the sawgrass under the boardwalk. The cold rains that had plagued South Florida for a week seemed to be a distant memory now as the reflection of the half moon shimmered off the bay. Much as she hated to admit it, she was glad to be on the pain killers right now. Images of dirty brown water swallowing up the Hummer occasionally flashed through her mind. She remembered the vulnerability she felt as the alligator-infested waters rose up around her safe haven. That rain angrily pounding the windows. That drip, drip, drip of the water leaking in through the broken driver's side window. That helplessness when her only food source was a survival kit that she had discovered by accident. The brown, muddy river just inches below her feet as she held on for dear life and watched the Hummer sink to a watery death.

She looked helplessly toward the crowd that had gathered at the pier. The pain killers were a good thing right now.

Ryan watched her. "You gonna be all right?"

Emmie looked at him and nodded. "Yeah. You know, it's strange. When I was in Saudi Arabia, the barracks down the block from us took a Scud missile. Some reservists died. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I don't remember feeling like this, though."

"Like what?"

She shook her head. "I was only nineteen, but for the first time in my life, it occurred to me that I wasn't immortal. But now, well, out there, stranded in that Hummer with a broken leg, trying to keep Horatio alive. I can't describe it. I never felt so helpless. Maybe because when I was in the Gulf, I expected it to be dangerous. But not riding home from a conference." Emmie closed her eyes painfully. She wanted to cry, but the pain killers forbade it.

Ryan had his hands in his pockets as he watched her. "I think I understand. You gonna be okay? I can take you home."

"I'm really tired. I'm sorry, Ryan. I know you went through a lot of trouble."

Ryan took her elbow and guided her gently in the other direction. "No trouble at all. Take your time."

Emmie sat at her computer table with her broken leg propped up on the metal chair. Ryan sat behind her as she brought her computer to life. "Thanks for doing all this."

He smiled. "Thanks for putting me up in your guest room."

She shrugged. "Well, things have been a little strange, to say the least. This leg is gonna take some getting used to."

He stood up suddenly. "That reminds me. You take your pills yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well here. Let's see." He stepped over to her coffee table and sorted through the brown bottles. "Okay. This is the one you're supposed to take an hour before bedtime." He sniffed. "Darvicet, huh? This'll put a smile on your face."

"Hey, it's starting!"

Ryan handed her some pills and a cup of water as he sat down behind her and watched the black monitor. Boats decorated in white, red, blue, and green Christmas lights sailed past the webcam one by one. Some of them played Christmas carols. Emmie reached forward and turned up her speakers so that she and Ryan could hear a mix of Christmas carols, crowds cheering, and the gentle waves breaking. Emmie hugged her crutches and smiled, transfixed on the monitor. A cabin cruiser sported a Christmas star and red and green Christmas lights while blaring "Hark the Herald Angels Sing!"

"That's beautiful."

Ryan smiled. "Yeah."

Neither one of them said a word as sailboats, cabin cruisers, and luxury yachts sailed past the webcam one by one, blaring Christmas carols and showing off their decorations.

Finally the last boat glided silently past the webcam. She clicked off her monitor. "That was nice, wasn't it?"

Ryan never took his eyes off the darkened screen. "Yeah."

"Sorry I couldn't stay out there" she said ruefully, never taking her eyes off the screen.

"Hey, that's okay. Nobody thought you'd get out of the hospital this fast, but the doctor said you were well enough to make the trip back, and I figured you wanted to be in your own bed on Christmas Eve."

"Yeah." She yawned and looked around her living room sleepily now. "It's really good to be back. I wish I knew how to thank you."

"By letting yourself heal. Well I think I'd better put you to bed. You've had a busy day."

"Yeah, you're right." She balanced herself as she stood up on her crutches. "I'm just gonna change really fast." Slowly she propelled herself past Ryan and closed her bedroom door. She was determined to do as much as possible without any help, especially since Ryan was just a friendly co-worker.

Ryan watched the closed bedroom door until she came out wearing a long tee shirt and loose shorts, propelling herself on her crutches. He stood up.

"Hold on. I'll come tuck you in" he said with a grin. She giggled as she turned and hobbled back to her full-size bed. From the other side he pulled back her burgundy bedspread. "Can you get in by yourself?"

"Uh huh." Slowly and painfully she pushed herself backward into her bed and let him flip the bedspread back over her. "Who knows? Maybe next year we can see that thing live?"

The young CSI nodded with a smile as he tucked the bedspread over her shoulder. "I think that'd be great."

She smiled back at him as she carefully lay on her side. "Night Ryan."

He stepped out and turned off her light. "I'll come get you in the morning."

Calleigh stepped in and scanned the bar. She didn't see him this time. "Hey, Dana. Where is he?"

The brown-haired lady behind the bar pointed discreetly with her thumb while giving Calleigh a knowing smile.

"Thanks."

Kenwall DuQuesne sat by himself at the end of the bar and merely stared at the empty glass in front of him. He wasn't singing along with the Christmas carol that wafted through the bar. He wasn't bragging about his favorite little girl at CSI. Even thought it was Christmas Eve, he had nothing to celebrate. There was no happiness. He'd really blown it this time, and he knew it.

Calleigh stood quietly behind her father, like she had so many times before. "Hey, Dad."

He never looked at her. Just kept his eyes on the empty bar glass in front of him. "Hey, Lambchop."

"This how you're gonna spend Christmas Eve?"

"Yep. I reckon this is as much fun as anything" he muttered to the bar.

Calleigh lowered her eyes. "It true what they said?"

"Yep."

Calleigh did her best to keep an upbeat mood. "We'll talk about it later, Dad. I'll take you home."

Slowly Duke turned on the bar stool toward his pretty little girl. "Don't know how I'm gonna tell your mama, Lambchop."

"We'll figure it out, Dad. We always do, don't we?"

He held his straw fedora with one hand and hooked his white jacketed arm under his daughter's elbow. "Yeah, I suppose. Too bad. I really loved that place."

Silently Calleigh escorted her wobbly father out across the lighted city street. In his condition he did his best to heel-toe and keep up with her as she walked to the Hummer parked across the street.

"So we gonna see you tomorrow morning?" he asked ruefully.

"Sure, Dad. But right now I've got to finish some things up at work."

Duke DuQuesne looked at his daughter with his tired blue eyes. "Maybe it's just as well they let me go. Maybe I'll get to see you and your mama more. Least for a while."

The CSI had been down this road many times. Behind that drunkenness was a sadness and helplessness that she had come to recognize. "You'll see me in the morning, Dad" she promised as he stepped up into the passenger seat. "Right now let's just get you home."